Author's note: Hello and welcome everyone! I have been looking forward to writing this story. I do have to give two warings straight up. One - this might look like a historical AU (totally inspired by Leonardo DiCaprio's Man in The Iron Mask), with the 18th century court scenery, no running water, no electricity and no Netflix, but it is far from historically accurate (and also maybe a bit French). Just so you know. If I make any mistakes as to what was possible back then, please just ignore them for the sake of the story. Two - and this is much more important - this story contains heavy past abuse and rape, physical and mental, and some present too, but I won't get to depictive of the acts itself, just of the consequences that followed. Make no mistake - this is a hurt!Dean story. Hope you enjoy!
Castiel took a long, deep breath, inhaling the air through his nose and hoping to pick up the smell of cherry blossom out of his window instead of the stench of dirt, urine, feces and stale air of the dungeons. He had been locked up in this place his whole life, and it was all he had ever known, but that didn't mean he didn't yearn for the outside world, for freedom and sun and even rain.
The worst part was that he didn't even know why. What terrible crime had he committed to deserve this punishment? To be locked away, discarded by the world that seemed to be ashamed of him. He asked that question a few times to the blacksmith that remodeled his iron mask whenever he outgrew it, but the man just moaned, his tongue long ago ripped out, so that he could not speak. The only other person that had ever seen his face, not that he ever took a moment to really look at him, was a man in gold blue robes, sophisticated and proud, and perhaps bold under that powdered wig with uneven curls. He wouldn't even look at him, much less give him an answer, so eventually, Castiel stopped asking.
He was but a boy when they first cast his face into iron, but even then, he remembered his name. He remembered a small cottage out in the woods and his nanna - a woman who raised him, but never allowed him to call her Mother. She was a gentle soul, whose only crime was crying and begging them not to take Castiel the night they came for him, and all it earned her was a severed head. Castiel cried so long, confused and scared, and they didn't tell him anything. All he had were his memories of Nanna, his life before this dungeon and the smell of cherry blossom in the spring.
Until one day, there was more.
All in all, it had been a good day, the jailor didn't spill his mush when he threw the tray into the cell, the bread didn't roll into mud or worse, into shit, and he accidentally got a double scoop of water, because the jailor forgot his cellmate was deceased. Best of all, the cherry blossom was slowly turning into the actual fruit, little dots of red in those vibrant green leaves shining some color into Castiel's life. It had been a good day, and Castiel had no indication that it was about to become even better.
It was a quiet afternoon, slowly moving into nightfall, the laziest part of the day. Some of the guards that had been on duty already left, leaving only a few to wait for the night watch, while most of the prisoners were at their lowest, depressed to see another day gone, waisted, much like themselves. Castiel could certainly identify.
He sat there, on the floor, amidst the little pile of hay that served as a bed, gazing out of his little window into the cherry tree outside. It was mostly quiet except for the grunts of an alpha a few cells away. Ruts were the number one death cause in this place - you are either fucked to death by a crazed alpha or died of dehydration caused by a rut. Sadly, Castiel's ruts weren't that intense and he would survive each and every one.
Gazing out of his window, with only his thoughts to keep him sane, Castiel hadn't noticed the arrival of a young man, who moved around silently until he reached Castiel's cell, then peaked curiously inside. "Hello."
Castiel's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and he thought his mind had finally started playing tricks with him. There stood a man, no, a boy, his innocent blue eyes gazing through the bars. His hair was blond, but mostly hidden under a dark blue cavalier hat with a light blue feather. His entire attire was a mixture of dark and royal blue with hints of gold, too formal to belong in a place like this.
"Hello." The child said again, lifting his hand in a form of a greeting, and no, he most definitely was not a figment of Castiel's imagination. The young alpha eyed him curiously and stepped closer to the bars, and Castiel did the same. "You are the one named after an angel, aren't you?" The boy asked, and Castiel gave no response. The child only grinned at him, strange excitement lighting up his kind blue eyes and he moved away.
"Jack! Have you found him?" A voice hissed, trying to be quiet and yell at the same time. Another man, a beta, appeared from the same direction, quite short, but with golden locks that made his face look much softer and kinder. His attire was similar to the boys, not only in style and color, but in size as well.
"I think this might be him, Gabriel." The child replied, motioning at Castiel, his hand coming a bit too close. If it had been any other prisoner, the young alpha could have easily lost his hand. Perhaps an arm too.
Another man, another beta appeared, taller and with a strange accent, and they spoke in hushed tones, things Castiel could not hear. Then, the short one, Gabriel, parted the group and came closer to Castiel's cell, locking eyes with him. They were distinctly hazel, and somehow, trustworthy. He lifted a bunch of keys, and Castiel glanced their way, his breath hitching, but he dared not hope.
"If I let you go, do I have your word you will not try to harm us? If I set you free, would you follow us and hear what we have to say?" Gabriel asked and Castiel gasped, then immediately nodded, slowly, trying his damnedest to settle his beating heart. Gabriel unlocked his door and he stepped out, calmly, trying to appear non-threatening despite the fact that he was bigger than all three, and an alpha too. He followed the group through corridors, past various cells, detecting hints of a scent that was familiar, but definitely not theirs.
The young alpha, Jack, smelled of wood and iron, nothing too detecting since he was young. The other two, Gabriel and what he picked up in their conversation, Balthazar, didn't have a scent, like most betas. Though Gabriel did give out a hint of something sweet, Castiel guessed it was probably food. And still, that scent lingered. Familiar. Soothing.
They snuck him out of the dungeons and into the night, Balthazar taking him up on his horse, because Jack was too inexperienced, and Gabriel… Well Castiel hadn't figured out why Balthazar wouldn't allow Gabriel to share his horse. Between the two, Balthazar seemed a bit more serious, though frequently annoyed by Gabriel, who would smile at many unhumorous things and seemed to be a strangely cheerful person. One could even say Balthazar was the night to his day, close to a complete opposite.
The nightly sky filled with stars was so vast and awe-inspiring.
They arrived at a random house in the middle of the town, a place not too spacious, but clean. Castiel took tentative steps, the front door opening to a kitchen/common room, that familiar scent even more palpable in the air. An alpha. It was an alpha. An alpha that smelled of mountains and ozone and clouds, though Castiel knew he had never smelled any of those things and should not know what they were.
Gabriel offered him a seat, while Balthazar offered some water, and Castiel accepted, gulping down the three mugs eagerly.
"There is some leftover dinner, but I think it could wait until…" Balthazar started, trailing off as Jack entered the room, tools in hand. The young alpha put them in front of Castiel, a familiar looking set and he knew exactly what they intended to do. So he simply nodded and allowed Balthazar near, sitting down calmly and patiently while the beta worked on getting his mask off.
There were silent gasps from all three of them, but Castiel ignored them, taking in a deep breath and lifting his head high as if the dim light in the room was the sun. A strange ache hollowed his chest for a moment and he took another shuddering breath, finally free of that heavy iron mask.
"What did you do!?" A voice came out from behind, startling Castiel into a warning growl, but once he snapped his head back, he was dumbstruck to find the source of that familiar scent. A man, older, his hair black as the night with a hint of wisdom grey here and there, his wide, bright blue eyes bore into Castiel's as if he had seen a ghost.
"Michael…" Gabriel started, but the alpha simply gave him a glare that immediately silenced him. Jack remained quiet and still, Balthazar the only one courageous enough to speak up.
"We have done what was right, what you would inevitably do as well. We simply - moved things along." He said proudly, stepping away from Castiel, and making the elder Alpha refocus on him yet again. He watched him, for a good few moments, the emotions in his eyes indecipherable, yet so strong, so powerful, for the first time in his life Castiel felt like dropping his gaze in submission.
"A word." Michael said to the three and all nodded, then turned to move through an archway. Michael paused, glancing at Castiel once again and letting a deep sigh before altering his direction. He opened a kitchen cabinet, took out some bread and a plate with a chicken leg on it, set it in front of Castiel and only then turned to join the others.
Castiel dug in, starved and completely unwilling to let an opportunity to eat pass by. Still, he tried to listen in, only managing to pick out a few words here and there, each making him more confused. 'canning resemblance', 'crown prince', 'future of the entire country' were just some of many, but the ones that surprised him the most were the only ones Michael spoke, his voice booming in the silence "It has to be his decision."
So, he would be given a choice of sorts. The question was - what would happen if he declined whatever they were offering? Considering Michael's words, Castiel doubted he would be killed or returned to the dungeons, and if it was freedom they were offering, Castiel would take it.
He watched them re-enter the room, eyeing each and every one of them without a hint of emotion in his eyes. Michael let out a deep sigh, then looked away, as if it pained him to look at Castiel, while the other just stared back. The taller, more sophisticated beta cleared his throat and began to speak.
"We are the Musketeers of King Charles' army…"
"You mean we were the Musketeers of King Chuckles army." Gabriel interjected, and Balthazar threw him a stern glare before refocusing back on Castiel.
"As I was saying… We were the Musketeers of King Charles' army and as of late, we also serve his son - Prince James. As you certainly understood by now, my name is Balthazar. This is Gabriel and the young alpha is Jack."
"Hello." Jack piped out with a smile.
"And the dark and brooding damsel over there is Michael." Gabriel added and both Michael and Balthazar frowned at him, while Castiel only observed them, intrigued by their dynamic and their personalities, but more interested in hearing what decision was upon him.
"Gabriel…" Balthazar gave a warning growl, cute really, since he was only a beta, and Gabriel only rolled his eyes at him. They were quite amusing to watch.
"Just get on with the story." Gabriel replied and Balthazar huffed at him, then focused back on Castiel.
"As I was saying, we were Musketeers…"
"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" Gabriel threw his hands up in the air. "You suck at this!" He added, then pulled a chair and sat opposite Castiel. "I am going to tell the story." He declared and grinned when Castiel nodded, puffing his chest and smiling smugly at the other beta, who simply crossed his arms and pouted. Quite amusing.
"Alright, listen here.
Once upon a time there was Lady Beatrice. Short, but sweet, her appearance enchanted every man in the kingdom. Though I always thought she had a big nose, heh… Anyway… She was the fairest of them all and her beauty simply had to be rewarded by a Royal status. Despite her heart belonging to someone else, she entered the marriage with Prince Charles… you know, the king…" Gabriel stage-whispered, and Castiel had to be honest, the man had a knack for story-telling.
"... For years they were unable to conceive a child, and King Charles feared his throne would have no hair. He sent her away to visit the Garden Springs with his most trusty Musketeer…" Gabriel glanced at Michael so briefly, if Castiel hadn't been paying attention, he would have missed it. Everyone else seemed to think he did, so Gabriel continued.
"And upon her return, voila - she managed to conceive. The pregnancy was harsh on her small, fragile form, and no wonder, because on the day the future crown prince was to be born, there came two. Meaning twins. One was a bit smaller, a sickling, and two days later she was informed the child had died." Gabriel dramatically paused, taking a breath and leveling Castiel with a serious face for a moment before the grin in his face returned.
"Alas, it was but a lie. Her midwife, upon the king's orders, took one child and ran off with him. Though she had mistakenly taken the healthy one, thus making Queen Beatrice worry about the other son acquiring the same sickness. She mothered him too much." Gabriel once again allowed a comment, a personal note to slip in, then continued as if nothing was said.
"The midwife - Lady Anna, entrusted a letter to her nephew Samandriel, a letter that, in case of her demise, should be delivered to Queen Beatrice, a letter that spoke the truth. Not seven years later, Queen Beatrice received the letter in question. She confronted King Charles, only then seeing his true nature as he proclaimed he would have her killed and her other son too, if she dared speak of it ever again. Fearing her life, and the life of her lost son, she remained quiet, till her dying breath."
"But all great secrets were meant to be revealed, and so, the only man that ever really loved her, received a letter two days after her death, explaining everything and asking him to find her lost son and make sure he is alive and well."
"And that is you." Jack piped in. Castiel choked on thin air, but still managed to catch a glimpse of Gabriel's furious eyes as they bore into the young alpha's, annoyed that he ruined his story. Balthazar rolled his eyes again, but slowly, all eyes crept back on Castiel, watching for any reaction.
Castiel, on his part, was speechless. The late Queen was his mother, King Charles his father? Prince James was his brother? His identical twin brother. He huffed an ironic laugh, finally understanding why his face was kept hidden all these years. If it were true, if he shared a face with the crown prince, of course they would want to hide his face, hide his existence. But why not simply kill him? Why keep him alive? Gabriel did say prince James was the smaller one, the weaker one. Maybe Castiel was their contingency plan?
And what was Castiel to these musketeers now? His eyes hardened as they looked from Gabriel, to Balthazar, to Jack, only to give pause as they landed on Michael. The older alfa had so much regret written on his face, but his scent was so comforting, so familiar, so… safe. Soothing, like only a parent's scent could be, not that Castiel ever knew what that was.
Deciding to let it go, for now, Castiel turned back to Gabriel and just nodded, using his expression and not his words to make the beta continue. They explained everything - from the state of the country, people starving and hurt, to the fact that king Charles was on his deathbed and prince James was a spoiled brat, and even the king began to worry he wouldn't be fit to rule. They wanted to reinstate Castiel to his rightful place, give him back what was taken from him, and wanted him to lead his country back to its former glory. They didn't want anything for themselves, only a chance to serve and protect him, true patriots without any hidden agenda, as far as Castiel could see.
He didn't give them an answer straight away. As a matter of fact, he hadn't even spoken to any of them at all since they met, too caught up in his thoughts and trying to process everything he had learnt about himself and his family. They let him stay in the house, they came and went, bringing food and water, he was never asked to leave, nor held there against his will. They gave him a room with a soft bed, yet Castiel slept on the floor, one one thin sheet. The only real comfort he allowed himself was the bath Michael had a few servants set up for him, washing away years of filth and dirt, relaxing and just breathing properly for the first time since he was taken from nanna. Or was it Anna?
After he was done, he redressed in clean clothes and stepped out of the bathroom area and into the living room where Michael lingered, his face serious and sad as he cleaned his pistol. He seemed startled by Castiel coming into the room, as if he didn't expect him to finish so soon, or was caught up in his own thoughts to notice it had been almost two hours. Castiel sat opposite and looked as Michael worked on the weapon.
"Have…" Michael's voice broke for a moment, so he cleared his throat before continuing. "Have you ever seen one of these?" He offered a disassembled muzzle pistol, but Castiel only looked at it, never reaching to touch it. He shook his head a no, though he had seen them, just not this up close and had absolutely no idea how they worked. So Michael showed him, explaining every part, from the grip and the trigger, to hammer, jaws, pan and frizzen, what its purpose was and how it worked. Castiel had a small smile on his face by the time Michael finished and he looked up at him, his eyes searching the older alpha's face for a moment.
"Thank you… For showing me." Castiel said, and Michael let out a little gasp at the sound of Castiel's voice. It had always been deep, like with most alpha's, and now a little hoarse from being unused for too long. Michael opened his mouth and closed it, like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, so he just nodded, and started collecting his cleaning supplies.
"Would you… Do it? If you were me?" Castiel asked, making Michael's eyes snap back to meet his gaze, pausing his actions. He seemed just as uncertain as a moment ago, though a lot more defeated.
"I can't answer that for you. I cannot tell you what to do. All I can offer is to stand by you whatever you decide to do. If you allow me to." He said, catching Castiel off guard with those words. Those doubts, those suspicions regarding Michael and what he was to him came back, but he shoved them down again, focusing on the matter at hand.
"Even if I declined to help?"
"You have every right to lead your own life and not be a slave to politics and this regime. Not any more. So yes, even if you decline to help, I will support your decision, and wouldn't view you any differently." Michael replied, and it seemed like that was all Castiel needed to take the step in the right direction.
"Very well. Then I shall do it." There was a small, proud smile on Michael's face, and mixed with some sorrow in his eyes made a very melancholic expression. The old alpha gave a nod and together, they summoned the rest of the musketeers to convey the news.
It didn't happen overnight. It took months for Castiel to learn how to conduct himself, how to speak, how to drink and eat, what utensil to use and what would be polite in which situation. Ultimately, he was told not to be too polite and to frequently dismiss people because prince James was an obnoxious spoiled alpha and he needed to act like him. What he originally thought would be a great revelation of his existence to the world, turned out to be a secret mission of an old switch-a-roo. Castiel hadn't understood the term Gabriel used until Balthazar explained that Castiel would be taking price James' place and would be, from now on, referred to as James. Balthazar also explained that this would be for the best, not causing a scandal, just quietly replacing one person with another.
Almost six months later, it was all set. They arranged for a few thugs to attack Prince James in the royal garden and in all that comotion they would replace him with Castiel, then make it seem as if the musketeers saved him, and in return prince 'James' would honor them with a chance to serve him and be his personal guards. And aside from being accidentally hit in the face by Balthazar, Castiel thought it all went smoothly. He was brought before his father, in his room and knelt by his bed and his father did not recognize him. Castiel played his part all too well, pouting and seemed annoyed by King Charles' proclamation that the musketeers would guard him now, as if it was his idea in the first place.
The only time his metaphorical mask slipped and fear flashed in his eyes was at the sight of the King's chief minister, Cardinal Zachariah. A man Castiel knew. A man who stood idly and ordered the blacksmith to cast his face in iron. A man who knew his secret, and yet, had no idea who was standing before him and who he bowed to. Castiel managed to scold his expression back to neutral before the disgusting little man managed to lift his gaze, then with all of the delight, dismissed him. The Cardinal seemed confused for a moment by such behavior and Castiel had a fleeting thought that perhaps prince James and the cardinal had known each other better than it seemed.
At the end of the long day, feeling tired and drained, Castiel said goodbye to his new entourage as the musketeers were given new quarters near his, then walked towards his own room, eager to lose the mask of prince James. He followed the instructions Gabriel gave him as to where his quarters were located and nodded to a guard by his door Gabriel said was named Benjamin, a big, tough alpha, sworn to protect the crown prince with his life. Castiel contemplated, and not for the first time, about how his life was about to change, not necessarily for the better, when he walked into his room and was immediately hit by the strong scent of cherry blossom.
His eyes wide landed on a creature, no!, an omega, kneeling by the door, his eyes cast down. Castiel gasped at the sight of a clearly malnutritioned naked man, covered in blood and dirt and excrement and god only knew what else, and Castiel stumbled backwards, horrified and with his mouth dropping open as he took in the submitting man, his eyes cast down, his expression haunted, as much as Castiel could see. The worst part was the heavy iron collar around the omega's neck that connected him with a wall by a heavy chain, marks of which he had all over his skin along with bruises, old and new, cuts and scrapes.
Castiel turned, ran to his washing station and emptied the contents of his stomach into an empty bucket. His heart was racing, his mouth dry and foul and his breath completely lost when under all those layers of filth and gore, the cherry scent reached out towards him, sad and sour, yet so sweet and mouth watering and… wrong, wrong, oh so wrong!
Slowly, Castiel turned, just to make sure the man was really there, then tentatively walked towards him. The omega seemed to curl inward, trying to make himself seem smaller, probably on instinct and Castiel wanted to reach for him, to touch him, to comfort him, to… Do anything to fix this.
He wanted to do anything to right this wrong, take care of this omega, feed him and cover him up, comfort him, tell him he needn't kneel, not in front of Castiel.
Much to his horror, all he managed to do was channel his inner James and tell the omega "Dismissed."
Author's note: And thus our story begins. I know this was more of a background, and I promise, the next chapter is all about that poor omega. We will have more background noise later, but my intended focus will be on the pairing.